Paradox (Travelers Series Book 2) (10 page)

No, not really.
Then an idea comes to mind. “Hey, Victor? Can I show you something?”

He blinks several times, as if I catch him off-guard, unsure of what I’m about to show him. I’m sure after last night, he’s wary of me wanting to confide anything in him. “Of course.”

I lead my dad out to the back deck and ask him to sit on the side bench. “Now, hear me out. I know how you don’t like for me to use my powers until I’ve fully understood how they work, but I want you to see something.”

“Okay, I’m all eyes,” he says, a bit apprehensive at what I’m suggesting, but he doesn’t stop me. He even laughs at his play on words. “Although I’m not quite sure what it is you would like for me to see.”

The idea I have in mind was much better when I first thought it up a second ago. Now, I don’t know if I can actually pull it off. I don’t have Cooper to assist me, so this may not work. I put all thoughts aside, close my eyes, and try to remember the breathing exercises Cooper taught me last week when we summoned the butterflies.

My eyes are still shut as I hear my dad cry out. “Etta, is that you doing that?”

With my eyes still closed, I can actually see the butterflies buzzing all around me as I summon them. I’m not really sure how I’m able to call out to them, but I know whatever it is I’m doing is working, because I can actually hear the faintness of their wings all around me now. I can’t communicate with them directly, like Cooper had the last time we tried this, but I know I’m pulling them in somehow. I can feel the goose bumps rising on my arms from the gentle flutters of silk grazing my cheeks and chin.

“Do you know what a rarity this is,” he whispers. I don’t bother breaking my concentration in order to tell him hushed voices aren’t necessary. I have such a strong hold on them; they aren’t going anywhere.

I finally open my eyes and smile. The butterflies are all swirling and whooshing around my head and for a brief moment, I know this is what heaven must feel like. To be surrounded with such beauty your heart cries out.

Not hearing anything from my dad at this point, I stop admiring the winged creatures long enough to catch him crying. I break my concentration and the butterflies scatter off in what seems to be a hundred different directions.

I run over to where my dad is seated. “Victor, are you alright?”

“The monarch was your mother’s favorite.” He looks so solemn, I instantly regret showing off. My intent wasn’t for him to feel bad, I just wanted to show him what I’m capable of. It was nothing short of grandstanding and it backfired somehow.

Way to go, Etta
, I think to myself. Instead of proving to my dad that I’m taking command of my abilities by showing him how far I’ve progressed, I manage to achieve the opposite effect. This is the first time he’s ever brought up my mom. I never bring up the topic of my mother because I don’t know how it’ll affect me. I’m afraid my lack of memories will make me not miss her as much as I should. It’s a scary thought, but talking about a mother you don’t remember is a hard subject to tackle. So, instead, I take the coward’s way out and simply don’t think about it.

“Oh, Etta. Your mother would have been so proud of you,” he says. “That was beautiful, what you just did. You remind me so much of her.”

“Really?” I don’t know much about her, other than she died in a plane crash around the time my dad took me to the orphan reality. I really do want to know more about her. This is a good start, I guess.

“She was beautiful, very much like yourself, and stubborn.”

I can’t stop the tears flowing from my eyes. “I don’t remember her.” I can think back to some of the times I shared with my dad, albeit fuzzy, but I have very little recollection of my mother. I wish there was something that could make me remember.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. But I know she’s somewhere, looking down at you and is proud of the young woman you’ve become. Now, what’s all this about, hmm?” He’s referring to my little spectacle.

“I wanted to show you that I’ve improved my powers. I need you to know I’m okay going off on my own, and that I can take care of myself.” The relationship between me and my dad is still rocky at best, but I have to admit this is a good starting point. My feelings towards him are still mixed, but I’m not ready to give up hope.

“And did I mention tenacious too?” He stops looking sad for a moment, long enough to offer a deep hearty laugh. “Just like her.”

F
ortunately, after my stunt with the butterflies, my dad finally gives up and accepts I have a future to protect. He and my aunt give me permission to travel to Mexico City with Cooper. Not that I need their consent, I’d still go with our without their permission, but it’s nice to have their blessing. Of course, this is after we promise to be back in less than twenty-four hours. When Cooper first told me we were flying to Mexico, I was a bit confused—which seems to be a central theme in my life.

“Why are we flying? We’re jumping to another reality right? You said that’s where we’ll find Jenny’s doppelgänger.”

Cooper explains why it’s necessary to travel to Mexico City by plane. “It’s much easier to fly to our intended destination, then jump to that alternate reality. I know you’re new to traveling, but it’s much harder to jump in geographical terms, than it is to simply travel through dimensions.”

Since I don’t have a passport, my dad puts in a call to some of the higher-ups at the Department of Defense, where he works as a contractor, so I’m able to obtain one pretty quickly. I don’t know what important people my dad knows at the DoD, but he must be equally important, or I wouldn’t have gotten one so fast.

“It’s for the mission,” my dad says, albeit begrudgingly, as he presents me with my very first passport. He seems to be coming around to the whole idea of the Council and my leadership of it. Even though he was weary at first, I’m glad he decided to trust me.

Before we leave for the airport, I inquire about our trip. “So, where do you suppose we start?” I can’t imagine it’ll be easy searching for Jenny in such a large place like Mexico City. Does he know where she lives?

“Of course I know where she lives. I’ve known Jenny for years, remember? In the reality we’re going, she enjoys the accommodations of the Four Seasons.”

“The hotel?” I can’t imagine anyone living in a hotel, or being able to afford something so fancy.

Cooper smiles. “The one and only.”

“Why do you suppose she lives there? Doesn’t she live with her parents?”

He shakes his head in response. “Not in that reality. Her parents died in a bombing incident when she was young. Her father was a very influential politician in Mexico and was the victim of an assassination. Unfortunately, her mom was with him when the bomb went off. Jenny’s been on her own ever since.”

“And shacked up at the Four Seasons.” I guess the Mexican version of social services have better things to do than to look for rich orphans living in luxury with no supervision. You could probably get away with it here in the U.S., but it’d be only a matter of time before somebody ratted you out.

“Her mother’s sister took her in after her parents were killed and brought Jenny up as her own after the incident, but about a year ago she decided to leave and live on her own.”

“Must have been hard for her,” I muse. “So, what’s the plan? We travel to alternate reality Mexico, grab Jenny, and then head back?”

“Something like that.

“Okay,” I say, not quite making sense of things. “So, do I need to pack a bag or what?”

“Not necessary. We should be able to find Jenny easy enough at the hotel and convince her to join us rather quickly. I don’t think we’ll be in Mexico more than a day.”

“You’re sure of that?” I know what version of Jenny Cooper’s been acquainted with these last few years, but I know two separate Jenny’s. She hates me in every reality in which we’ve met. Something tells me it’s not going to be as easy as Cooper makes it out to be.

“Oh, she’ll help willingly. Once she hears what we have to say, she’ll be easily persuaded,” he assures me.

“If you say so,” I say, still unsure of the situation.

When we finally get to the airport, we find out the flight to Mexico City is overbooked, but Cooper manages to get us both on board, taking the last two seats available. Fortunately, they’re first class seats. I’ve never been on a plane before, so this is a double experience for me. I’m sure any other flight I take in the future will pale in comparison. My dad’s pretty well-off, but not the first class kind.

Immediately, the flight attendant takes our jackets and shows us to our seats. “Would you care for something to drink? Champagne? Water?” The attendant asks.

She isn’t what I expect a flight attendant to look like. I imagine someone taller with long blonde hair. At least, that’s what they look like in the movies. Our attendant, on the other hand, is pretty, but plump, with short curly brown hair. She looks to be in her forties and smiles while taking our drink orders.

I take a side glance at Cooper. It’s not like they check ID’s at the door. A little champagne can’t hurt. Besides, I’m treating this as a mini vacation. Aside from traveling to another reality, I’ve never been anywhere before. So, why not indulge in a little bubbly?

“Don’t even think about it,” he says, reading my mind. Isn’t there a rule that says you can’t read the mind of your love interest? Or maybe I just read it somewhere.

I turn to the flight attendant. “Coffee, please.” At least I can have that. “Oh, and some cream,” I say as an afterthought. I don’t mind taking my coffee black, but I have a feeling they don’t purchase the same coffee beans they do at Battle Grounds. The cream should cut down on the burnt bitter taste it’s no doubt going to have.

“And I’ll have a water,” Cooper tells the attendant.

I nestle back into the seat and stare out my window overlooking the tarmac of Reagan National Airport. You’d think it’d be a larger airport, considering it’s so close to the District, but it’s not. I watch the other planes roll down the runway and think about what lies ahead in Mexico.

My head turns back to Cooper as the flight attendant comes back with our drink order. I think I like being in first-class. You don’t have to wait until you’re airborne to get your drinks, not to mention all the special attention.

“Do you think she’ll really want to help?” I still have a hard time believing that Jenny, in any reality, would want to help me. Let’s just chalk it up to being burned one too many times.

“I’m sure of it.” He takes a sip of his water and reassures me by squeezing my hand. “She’s lost quite a bit and she has a lot to gain by joining us. Don’t forget, I come from a reality where we’re all already working together to take down Thornberry. It’s kinda a done deal.”

“I guess.”
But anything can happen right?
I get another squeeze for my thoughts. Damn, I hate when he does that.

“Yes, darlin’. Nothing’s ever set in stone, and timelines do, on occasion, veer off course. But I’m not concerned about Jenny. She’ll be on board.”

I settle back into my seat and take a sip of my coffee—ugh, bitter, even after I add cream. Okay, so first-class does have limitations. As we begin to pull out onto the runway, I examine all the flight literature and safety instructions. In many ways, flying is much scarier than jumping realities; the idea of being on a plane is exciting, but the possibility of crashing is not.

The next thing I know, I wake up with my head twisted to the side, with a little bit of drool on my t-shirt sleeve. Oh God, I hope Cooper didn’t notice. Worse yet, I hope I wasn’t snoring! I was so excited about our trip and being on my first flight ever, I must have exhausted myself.

“No, darlin’, no snoring, just a bit of drool,” he chuckles, responding to my thoughts again. How embarrassing!

“A real gentleman doesn’t mention things like that,” I point out.

“What makes you think I’m a gentleman?” He grins.

“Because you insist on calling me darlin’. Isn’t that what gentlemen do? Give women pet nicknames and pretend to be all proper?”

“Ah, you’re just mad I saw you drool. Don’t worry, it was totally cute.”

“Can we stop discussing my sleep habits and talk about something else?”

“Whatever you want darlin’”

Ugh!
“What time is it anyway? Did I sleep through the entire flight?” I peek out the window and can’t see anything but clouds, so I must not have been asleep for very long. However, I totally missed the flight attendant go over the safety information. Somehow, the pamphlets I read before falling asleep didn’t curb my nervousness about flying.

He shook his head. “You slept for about an hour. We still have another four to go.”

“Oh. Okay then, talk to me. Aside from Jenny, who are all these people we’re supposed to track down and recruit?” Are they people I know in this reality or my old one? Is an alternate Alex a part of the mission? If he is, talk about an awkward situation.

“No, there’s no alternate Alex involved,” he says, answering my thoughts. “But my friend Moose is. He’s actually a good buddy of mine from way back.”

“And what’s his gift?” I’m so curious about his friend’s ability, I forget to chastise Cooper for reading my mind again.

“Gift?”

“Yeah, you told me we all have these special abilities thanks to my dad. So, if Jenny’s a medium, I assume Moose has some sort of power too,” I whisper. We don’t need the other first class passengers to overhear what must sound like a ridiculous conversation. I take a peek around the cabin. I guess I don’t have to worry, everyone seems to be asleep or wearing headphones.

“Ah. Yes, Moose has special abilities. He’s an empath.”

“An empath. As in feeling emotions?” I know what empathy means, I’ve just never heard the term used in context with a person’s ability to literally be able feel them.

“Exactly. It actually serves him well in his profession.”

“Which is?” I can only imagine what kind of job he’d have where being able to read another person’s emotions would be useful. He’s probably a shrink or something. Boy, would he have a field day with me. Personally, it doesn’t sound like a very good power to have. To feel people’s emotions? What if the person was hurting or heartbroken? It would be horrible to be able to channel those types of feelings.